Fullerton, California When I came across this little story I immediately started reflecting on hilarious but somewhat gross times on my old college campus. I’m sure you all have witnessed similar situations, perhaps even been among the unfortunate. Back in those days, we could actually smoke in buildings…way before the tobacco Nazi’s came in and ruined everything. Anyway, the scene is set: lots of drinking, lots of smoking, very few ashtrays to go around. Abandoned or empty beer cans were often used as a replacement, or plastic cups with a swallow or two of beer left in the bottom. By this time of evening, the conversations were intense and loud because everyone knows the ability to hear oneself speak while intoxicated is damn near impossible. It rarely failed, someone would be so adamant about convincing a group of people they had all the answers while grabbing their beverage without looking, taking a big gulp, only to find it was someone’s ashtray after it was way too late. Sometimes they’d puke. Sometimes they wish they’d puke. It was usually after finding out they’d just swallowed a mouthful of someone’s spit. Everyone else would laugh their ass off but I can pretty much guarantee those containers were never maliciously planted. And I can also pretty much guarantee none of those containers were blatantly jacked off in and served.

Meet Michael Kevin Lallana, the sick son of a bitch who, not once but “allegedly” twice targeted a female co-worker at Northwestern Mutual Mortgage Company. The first incident was in January. She returned to her office, took a swig out of her water bottle and after a fashion, felt ill. The second incident happened about three months later, in April. But this time, after feeling ill, the female sent the bottle of water off to a private lab to be tested, two months later she received the results. I’m betting she was waiting on being able to boast she’d ingested toxic chemicals from the water and was banking on a nice lawsuit. I doubt very seriously she was prepared for the findings given to her.

“Ma’am. We have enclosed the results from the water bottle we tested in out facility. We’ve also included a self-addressed stamped envelope in hopes you’ll be kind enough to send us an 8×10 colored glossy picture of yourself for our lab. One taken after you’ve just finished your yogurt lunch (and before you’ve wiped your mouth or brushed your teeth) would be preferred and very much appreciated. Thank you in advance. Lab results are as follows: H2O – 75% Semen – 25%. We’re so sorry you got ill, but what a sport. Sincerely, lonely lab techs who only dream of people like you.”

While that’s not the actual report she received, I’m pretty sure someone privy to that information there wanted to send something like that. What is true: this woman drank enough of Michael’s diluted baby gravy that she became ill to the point of paying to find out what was in that water. But I’m dying to know if she took a drink, thought it tasted funny, then took a few more drinks convincing herself it tasted funny. Then got her girlfriend to taste it too. Because you know, some office chicks can’t come to a conclusion themselves. They need a consensus. “Here, take a drink. Swish it around your mouth a few times, gargle and swallow. Tastes funny, doesn’t it?”

Michael Lallana (31) was linked through DNA and was arrested outside his home and charged with two misdemeanor counts each of releasing an offensive material in a public place and assault, with sentencing allegations for committing a crime for sexual gratification. Hell yeah. I bet he was lurking around the corner of her office just working himself into another episode as he watched her slowly unscrew the lid, hold the bottle to her lips, and take a long draw off the phallic-shaped container. And somewhere in a lab, while 99% of the men are waiting for the morning’s mail, the one hold-out is sitting on his little perch, decked out in his starched white lab-coat, holding the bottle to his lips with his pinky held high in the air, claiming the water didn’t taste strange to him.

I hate to admit this, but I once swallowed. It wasn’t intentional either. I only thank the Creator that it hit the back of my throat, missing the taste buds.

What do you guys think about this making her ill, though? I’d understand if she drank it and then someone told her what was in it.

Enough of the ‘sementics’: Now I apologize if the following offends anyone…no I don’t, fuck it. I like to play “Judge” sometimes. How I would punish a particular offender. I would punish this little fucknugget thusly: Step #1: While his hands are bound behind his back, the bailiff would insert a rusty, but otherwise ordinary Fourth of July sparkler…handle first into his pee hole. Deep enough that it would actually burn all the way to the hole.

B: A large bottle…the kind that you see zoo keepers feeding large animals with…would be hung in place with the nipple accessible to him. It would be filled with semen. (Probably need donations for that one)

L: Said rusty sparkler is ignited. Tell the pervert that he must chug all that semen down and the bailiff would then remove the sparkler…unless he pukes.

Thanks TG. I read this last night after I finished some runny tapioca. I puked all the way through it. And yes, you’re right. This does top the hell out of Mikey Edwards.

I’m wondering if she was allergic to some special spice in his spoo and that’s why she got sick. Or maybe it was a little chunky and got all caught up in her teeth making her realize something wasn’t kosher with her drink.

And whaaa? People get offended by something said on here? NO. That’s impossible. We’re the most sensitive mother fuckers on the world wide web.

I was dating this chick from Hawaii. She was Polynesian/Japanese. Real pretty, but real shy. This happened when I was living in Bloomington-Normal. She was a student at ISU. One morning we threw down in the living room. When we got finished, laying there butt naked, knowing how shy she was, I knocked on the coffee table right above our heads.

She tried to run in the bathroom and she got all tangled up in the blankets and couldn’t get out. She fought like a tiger in a net. I was fucking giggling. I was still laughing when she finally got herself loose and ran toward the bathroom. Unfortunately for me, she stepped right over my face and she dropped a little package while en route. My own seed dropped directly in the back of my throat. It slid right the fuck down, too, like it had wheels and a motor.

There was no doubt it was time to puke, so I headed for the kitchen sink. That’s when *I* got tangled up in the fucking blankets. When she got back into the living room…mad…and saw me sitting in my own mess, she asked what happened. I didn’t tell her.

Who, but me, could have a simple little joke go so horribly, HORRIBLY, wrong?

ewwwwwwwwwww yucky. I can relate to the first paragraph too. When mesmerized by an item on the puter in my sons room, I grabbed my bottle of pepsi and swalloed a big ol swig of chew spit. It still makes me gag to think about it. I then switched to a clear drink instead.

Sadly, it’s a true story. Lanie (the same name my kid calls my wife)the tobacco story almost made me rup! There are only three odd things that will make me sick. You mentioned one of them. The other two are soggy bread and touching cotton balls. I don’t know why.

@ Deadmyron that is some funny ass shit.. I have to say that is something you do not hear men admit to everyday.. And you made me almost pee a little… When my son was little he barrrfffed up formula and it did the same to me.. Perfect aim down the pipe.. It went down and it all came up.. I did not even have a chance to run for the bathroom.. I give you the crown on this one!!! It is for you to keep forever man.. That is just some wrong nasty stuff there..